Sam depressed the radio button. “Mississippi, we will be overhead at your location in twelve minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Sam then flicked the VHF to channel 45, where the Maria Helena had maintained an open communications channel with him. “Maria Helena.”
“Go ahead Sam?” It was Matthew who answered the call.
“We’re heading to 25 miles southwest of Bimini Island to render assistance to the Mississipi, a supertanker carrying two million barrels of crude oil. We’re going to be running pretty short on fuel by the time we rescue her crew and passengers. Can you please head in that direction?”
“Copy that, we’re on our way.”
“Mississippi, this is Sam Reilly, Special Projects Director of the vessel Maria Helena. I have the Maria Helena heading in your direction to take you under tow. Are you in authority to agree to Lloyds Open Form?”
Silence.
“Mississippi. Do you accept Lloyds Open Form?”
More silence.
“Mississippi, do you read?”
“Rescue ship. The fire is spreading to the bridge. Please hurry.”
Sam shook his head.
“What do you want to do?” Tom asked.
Sam banked the helicopter to the left. “Do you mean – am I still going to offer my services?”
Genevieve leaned forward in the helicopter. “Are you?”
“What?” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Do you have any idea what the overheads are to run the Maria Helena? Many of the anti-looting acts prohibit us from making much more than a fraction of the value of any treasure we discover.”
Genevieve looked at him with horror. “What were you going to do if he’d said no?”
Sam grinned. “Tom, please inform Genevieve the first rule of the sea.”
“Render assistance to any person found at sea in danger of being lost.”
Chapter Fifty Eight
Sam circled the Sea Knight as he saw the stricken oil tanker up ahead. Its forward oil compartment had split and oil was already spilling into the ocean. The oil had caught alight on the deck and the flames radiated with such strength that it might as well have been daylight outside.
“Sea King. We’re on the aft bridge. Please hurry, it’s going to get hot here pretty quick.”
Sam looked at the raised bridge nearly five stories high. On its roof were seven people waving their arms frantically. “Understood Mississippi.” He then turned to his other passengers. “Change of plans Tom. Get the life raft ready. I’m going to have to drop you all in the sea. There’s no way they will survive for me to make a second trip for the remaining passengers.”
“Got it.” Tom maneuvered the heavy inflatable life raft to the side of the helicopter. He then opened the side door.
Sam banked to the right and flew five hundred feet away from the stricken supertanker. Tom threw the life raft out the side door. It hit the water, instantly breaking its soda canister, causing the compressed air to inflate it in seconds.
“All right. Everyone out.”
Sam watched as each of them quickly dropped out of the helicopter. Tom was the last to jump. He looked back at him. “Have you got a portable radio to contact the Maria Helena?”
“I’ve got it. You go.”
“See you soon.” The second he watched Tom disappear, Sam raised the collective, sending the helicopter back into the air.
Within forty seconds he made his approach towards the bridge of the Mississippi. The heat over the burning oil created an artificial updraft. Sam fought with the controls as he tried to bring it towards the aft section of the supertanker. The flames were well forward of the massive ship, but he knew they wouldn’t be for long. With that amount of oil, it had the potential to combust with life ending consequences.
He took the helicopter down to a hover just above the raised bridge. Tom had left both side doors open, allowing for immediate loading. “Get in!”
Sam kept his left hand on the helicopter’s collective – a device used to change the angle of the main rotor blade, thus increasing or decreasing lift. As the people piled inside, he carefully raised it – thus increasing his lift and compensating for the additional weight.
He turned his head slightly to the left so that he could calculate the average weight of each person who clambered aboard. There were six men and one woman. The last person to climb in Sam predicted to be the ship’s captain. The man had a trim white beard to match the rest of his hair, and dark hazel eyes. He looked like every other shipping captain Sam had ever met – but it was his eyes that told Sam the man was in charge. He looked broken. He’d just lost the company a fortune, and as a consequence would never be entrusted with the command of such a ship again.
Sam’s predictions were immediately proved right.
“I’m John Bates. Captain and last one off the ship.”
Sam pulled back heavily on his collective, simultaneously rotating his left hand to increase the throttle. He wanted every last piece of power to get him away from the forsaken vessel. He then swung the joystick to the right and the Sea King banked away from the Mississippi. Sam turned to the side and acknowledged the man. “Pleased to meet you, Captain Bates.”
“I assure you, I’m much more pleased to meet you, Mr. Reilly.”
Sam smiled. His reputation was prolific in the world of shipping, and the man had recognized him instantly. “Is everyone all right?”
“Yes, but we have the remainder of nearly two million barrels of crude oil still pouring into the ocean. Not only is the loss going to hit the company hard, but you and I both know just how much damage that amount of oil will do to the ecosystem in the area.”
Sam looked at the sea below. The oil had already spread along the surface for nearly a quarter mile. It would be the worst oil disaster to hit the U.S. coast since the Deepwater Horizon disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. He said nothing. There wasn’t anything more that he could do about it.
“Given the circumstance, Mr. Reilly – I’m pretty certain the company would be willing to accept Lloyds Open Form.”
Sam watched as a new flame caught the massive oil slick, sending fire skipping along the surface like a fiendish imp from hell. The top deck then exploded. Flames engulfed the rest of the decking. “That’s very big of them, but I’m afraid I really can’t see anything we can do about it now. I thought all these modern oil tankers were required to have in built redundancy systems designed to protect the oil from spilling during a collision?”
“You’re right, they are. We have a state of the art, FOAM system. It sprays a mixture of fire retardant foam and also causes a chemical reaction which makes the oil solidify into a naturally fire retardant barrier.”
Sam looked at the massive oil spill, now well alight surrounding the Mississippi oil tanker. “It doesn’t look like it worked.”
“Shortly after our initial collision with the rogue wave and while we were in the process of damage control, there was an explosion mid-ship. It must have severed the internal wiring. Otherwise our FOAM device would have gone off, and we wouldn’t have this disaster!”
“Is there any other way to trigger it?”
“Yes. There’s a manual option located at multiple workstations throughout the ship. If you could reach the closest one to the hole in the ship, you could effectively shut down the entire leak. Not that it matters now.”
“Why not?”
“Because it would be impossible to reach.”
Sam’s blue eyes sparkled with infinite possibilities. “How impossible?”
“Well, given that the entire top deck is now alight there’s no way to reach the safety valves. That is, unless you feel like swimming beneath the surface flame for about half a mile until you reach the hole in the hull.”
“I don’t know about a feeling like it. But, I wouldn’t call it impossible. How many barrels of crude oil did you say she’s carrying?”
“Two million barrels.”
Sam smiled. “That’s a lo
t of oil if I can save it.”
The man shook his head. “That’s a lot of crazy even contemplating returning to the ship.”
But the man didn’t realize just how lucky some crazy people were.
Chapter Fifty Nine
Sam landed on the helipad situated on the aft deck of the Maria Helena. Tom met him as the rotor blades began their tedious process of winding down. Genevieve was standing next to him. Closer than Sam expected. Not like they were an item, but as though, for him, she’d removed the safety barrier of personal space that she normally maintained. Matthew must have fetched them out of the water minutes after he left them there.
Tom shook his right hand as he climbed down from the cockpit. “Did you get everyone off?”
“Yeah. We got lucky,” Sam replied.
“You always do.”
Sam started walking towards the dive room. Veyron approached him. “Come with me. We have work to do. You too, Tom.”
Tom followed.
“Veyron – what do you know about fixed deck foam systems and oil solidifiers?”
“Under SOLAS, I know that all oil tankers are required to have automated fixed deck foam systems in place.” Veyron looked at the burning deck of the Mississippi in the distance. “This one appears not to be fitted with one.”
“The captain assures me it is fitted with one, though. Says the control lines were severed during the initial collision. Do you think he’s lying?”
“It’s possible, but highly bad luck. I’d say being the fourth cargo ship in as many weeks to be destroyed by a “one in three trillion” odds rogue wave already says something about this captain’s luck.”
Genevieve handed Sam a cold glass of water. Then whispered to Tom, “What’s SOLAS?”
“It’s the convention governing the Safety of Life at Sea,” Sam replied. “And I want to know if the Mississippi was abiding by its obligations, and just unlucky – or if it had plain refused to obey them.”
Veyron answered for him. “It’s possible the system broke. There will be an investigation – one way or another, the truth will be obvious. So there’s no reason for the captain to lie.”
Sam stopped at the dive planning room, across from the moon pool on the fifth level below the decks of the Maria Helena. He sat down and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. “Good. Now. Tell me about oil solidifiers.”
“What do you want to know?” Veyron, like all good engineers, needed specifics.
Sam crossed his arms. “The Mississippi was supposed to have a state of the art system installed inside each oil compartment. The system was meant to stop an oil from leaking into the ocean.”
“I’d say it didn’t work,” Veyron replied.
“No. The captain tells me that some bright spark in their ultimate stupidity thought to run the cables controlling the solidifiers alongside with the ones that controlled the fixed deck foam system.” Sam looked at Veyron and Tom. Genevieve had already left. They both looked incredulous. “The captain says the system can be activated from inside the hull. So the question is, how well could this system possibly work in our current situation?”
Realization dawned on Tom. “No, no you don’t. I see what you want. The question is entirely moot – the whole deck of the Mississippi is now aflame.”
Sam uncrossed his arms. “So I hear. But both systems can be activated from deep inside the hull. The hull has been compromised and not only is it leaking oil, it’s also taking on water. That means there’s a perfectly good access point somewhere beneath all that furnace – if only we knew of someone capable of accessing a ship from thirty feet below.”
“You must be crazy!” Veyron said.
“She’s carrying three hundred million gallons of crude oil. That’s a lot of oil we can save from destroying the ocean. Besides, the captain tells me his owners have now kindly agreed to Lloyds Open Form.”
Veyron shook his head. “That’s a lot of crazy – even for you.”
Chapter Sixty
Sam downloaded the schematics for the Mississippi onto his computer tablet which he took on all his dives. If he pulled this crazy stunt off, he didn’t want to find he’d screwed it up because he activated the wrong system, or couldn’t locate it altogether.
He prepared his equipment. A single dive tank. Carbon fiber and custom fitted to mold with his torso. Unlike a conventional tank he wore this one wrapped around him instead of as a large cylinder on his back. It would offer some protection if he collided with the lethally sharp edges of the scarred opening on the hull. Filled to 300 BAR, it would provide him with nearly two hours of breathe time at the shallow depth. Sam knew he wouldn’t need anywhere near that much time. If he did, he’d have already failed.
His plan was to take a Sea Scooter 6000 with Bi-Jet Dive Propulsion to the stricken supertanker. Depending on the size of the rupture to its hull, he might get lucky and be able to drive right in. If he’s not, he’d have to dump the Sea Scooter, and do it the old fashioned way. Either way, it would be the fastest way to reach it. Matthew had advised him the slick of burning surface oil was now nearly a mile out from the Mississippi.
Sam placed his full-faced helmet over his head and breathed in. He looked at his dive computer. There was ample gas. All systems appeared to be in order.
He pressed his push to talk radio button. “Matthew, how far off the oil slick are we?”
“You’ll be right to dive in approximately one minute.”
“Good.” Sam moved towards the moon pool. Dangling his legs into the water.
Tom entered the room and sat down next to him. Sam looked at his friend. He was equipped to dive and held his own Sea Scooter in his left hand. “Mind if I join you?”
“Oh Christ Tom! I thought I told you that this was a stupid idea, and I didn’t want to risk your life.”
Tom placed his helmet over his head and locked it in place. “My life – are you kidding me? You know that I’m only here to stop you getting yourself killed. How many times must I save your life before you learn to keep me close by?”
Sam began to complain. “I thought we were even…”
“Don’t even start. I’m coming with you. No reason to let you bask in all this heroism. Not to mention, I need a share of the profits of two million barrels of crude oil more than you do.”
Sam knew Tom cared less than he did for the financial reward, but he was thankful not to be doing this on his own, none the less. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Tom pulled out a small plastic tube from his chest pocked. It was filled with some sort of clear liquid – probably water – and handed it to him. “Veyron told me to give this to you.”
“What the hell for?”
“He said if we run into any more of that glowing green plankton, we’re to take a sample. He didn’t say what for, and I didn’t ask. You’re all just as crazy as each other.”
Sam laughed.
“I’m glad he was thinking ahead.”
“You knew about this?”
“Yes. I’ll explain after we succeed.”
Chapter Sixty One
Sam dropped into the water. Negatively buoyant, he sank to ten feet within seconds, and then started the Sea Scooter. Its twin jet propulsion system firing up, he drove it diagonally downwards to thirty feet.
He set a bearing of 340 degrees northeast, towards the damaged super tanker. “You ready Tom?”
“I’m right behind you,” Tom replied. He spoke his words slowly and with a calm certainty. “I’ll follow you.”
“Okay, here we go then.”
Sam pulled back with his right handed throttle. The Sea Scooter rapidly picked up its pace as the twin jet propulsion systems reached their peak velocity. Above him the surface darkened as though they had just been swamped by a dark storm cloud. Only this one had a strange orange glow and the occasional blue bursts of intensely heated flame.
“There goes our ability to surface,” Tom said. Then, a moment later, as though he were mentioning the weat
her forecast, he said, “From here on in, we might as well be on an extended cave dive.”
Sam checked the speedometer at the center of the Sea Scooter. It read 40 miles per hour. No small feat for a SCUBA diver holding onto twin underwater jets. “I’m not worried about having to surface. It’s what’s below the surface and inside that ship that I’m concerned about.”
In front of him, the mammoth hull of the supertanker came into full view. Sam could hear Tom’s reassuring voice over the radio. “At least you won’t have to wait too long to see how much you need to worry about that.”
Sam stopped approximately fifty feet away and looked up at the monster. “No, that’s one benefit I suppose.”
Tom stopped just next to him. At the front of each of their Sea Scooters a SONAR transducer focused on the hull. Mounted on the heads up display above the Sea Scooter’s own instrument panels was a visual representation of the water movement and materials up ahead. It included the basic shape and outline of the ship’s hull structure.
The hull was riddled with fractures and openings.
In front of Sam, the screen showed the movement of liquid flowing into the hull as blue markings with arrows pointed upwards. Where it flowed outwards the computer displayed it as red. “Look for one of the larger ones flowing inwards. I figure any outwards flow is oil and inwards is seawater.”
Next to him, Tom studied the flow of water. There was only one major oil leak, but several gaping holes with seawater flowing in. He pointed to the nearest one. “How about that one?”
Sam studied it for a moment. “Think someone your size will fit?”
The gaping steel wound to the hull of the Mississippi was no more than four feet in diameter. On the left edge a small section jutted out like the side of an opened tin can. It wasn’t the largest entry point they could see – probably only the third, but by far the closest to the oil leak, and where they needed to get to in order to activate the safety systems.
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